Jenna's War III: Casualties
by RowenaR
Summary: Jenna's back with K-Company and with pretty new officer's bars at that , but all's not as shiny as she would have liked it. This time sadly enough not co-written with joustingforcancer. Ch. 3 added and story completed.
1. Chapter 1

**Author:** Whee, me again! Jenna just won't stop pestering me until I have written down her full story...

**Summary: **Jenna's back with K-Company (and with pretty new officer's bars at that), but all's not as shiny as she would have liked it. This time sadly enough _not _co-written with joustingforcancer :(

**Category:** Angst/Action/Adventure

**Rating:** T, just to be on the safe side

**Disclaimer:** Okay, this is gonna be funny. Star Wars on the whole belongs to The Flanneled One. **But** Jenna and Danna were first introduced by joustingforcancer who was so nice as to lend them to me. Thank you.

**A/N:** Although this one is not co-written with joustinforcancer, it can still be seen a companion piece to his story "Soldier", just like "Screw Up" and "Big Girl". If you haven't read at least the latter (and yet better: all of them), things could be a little imcomprehensible for you. If you still want to read it and have questions, feel free to ask them. I'll try to answer them. And remember:

Feedback will earn you a cookie, flames will roast my marsh-mellows.

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**Casualties**

"_I fought the war  
I fought the war  
But the war won."_

_Metric, "Monster Hospital"_

**One**

Why, oh why did I ever sign up?

Because, you know, when I signed up I surely didn't ever think that I'd have to hold dying men's hands and lie to them. More so, if those men are the slimiest, most obnoxious bastards I'd never have touched voluntarily. But here I am now, holding Tarkker's hand, still not quite sure how it all happened.

I mean, sure, basically… basically he got hit by a plasma grenade full in the face, and someone could drag him off the battle field and bring him to the field dressing square where I found him when I was desperately trying to find out who of my company survived and who didn't.

_And then… then he started shouting for his mum, and nobody had time to attend to him. Nobody apart from me. For a few long moments I just stood there, rooted to the spot. I saw the man who'd been poking fun at me in the box that crashed. I saw the man who'd cheated himself into a promotion on my expense. I saw the man who'd tortured us all with his frigging "I'm your drill instructor, call me God."-complex. And then I blinked, and I only saw a boy who'd never make it to the hospital ship in time and who'd die on some Force-forsaken backwater planet. And for what? Ideals that maybe never even were his own?_

_It was then I finally grabbed what being an officer really meant. It meant you had a responsibility to _all_ of your people. Even if it meant to comfort a dying man that was the bane of your existence. I walked over to him and grabbed one of his horribly burned and distorted hands and leant over him, trying to make contact with his eyes. In his burned face, they were strangely unmarred, big and terrified. I took a deep breath._

"_Joric? Are you listening?" Good thing I had a look at my platoon's files before finally taking over. Otherwise I'd never even have known his first name._

_His eyes then tried to focus on me. "Mum?" _

_I swallowed. Up to then it had been comparatively easy – I'd had survived OCS and a field promotion and practically my very hot trial by fire as an officer by then – but I realized I might not be able to really get through with what I'd wanted to do for Tarkker. _

_He tried to focus again, knitting his brows together, breathing shallow. The rational part of my brain told me in no uncertain terms that he'd not last much longer. "Mum?", he asked again, this time a very audible note of panic in it. Alright, I thought, time for some heroics off the battle field, Captain._

"_Yes, I'm here, Joric." His marred features turned into something that might have been a smile. It nearly broke my heart, and for that I hated him._

"_I'm sorry, mum. I shouldn't have… I shouldn't…" I resisted the urge to smirk. Who would have thought Joric Tarkker, asshole extraordinaire was mommy's little boy under all those layers of delusions of grandeur? _

"_It's okay, Joric. Whatever you did, it's okay." I hated him even more then. Somewhere among all the other soldiers on the battle field there were Magic and Danna and Kierse and Xanas, and I had no clue about their whereabouts, didn't even know if they were still alive – and what was I doing? Holding hands with a dying bastard and pretending to be his mum and telling him everything would be fine. If I hadn't forced myself to put those thoughts in the darkest corner of my mind, I'd have gone insane in that very moment._

_The dying bastard then made a sound I later interpreted as a bitter laugh. "I'm dying… mum. Aren't… you… happy now?" _Holy_ shit_! What in the universe can happen between a mother and a son that he could think stuff like that in his last moments?_, was everything I could think about for a few seconds. Then I decided that nobody deserved to go like that, with such bitter feelings in their heart. I did one of the most difficult things I ever had to do._

"_No, Joric. You're not dying, and I'd not be happy if you were. I'm your mother, and whatever you did, you'd not deserve such thing."_Big, fat lie_, my inner moral compass screamed at me, but I ignored it. _

_His already weak grip in my hand loosened as it was slowly going limp. I felt my throat constrict and my stomach churn. I'd seen a lot of people die up to that point, but it had never been _up, close and personal_. I realized that this was the first being ever to die practically in my arms. And how I wished I was about a million light years away. "Don't lie to me, mum… don't… _ever_ lie to me again… you know I deserve everything… and I don't… regret… anything." _

I felt positively sick then. What had he done to know that he deserved what was happening to him? What was I doing at the side of a potential murderer, rapist, drug dealer? The answer was easy, but it took me a long time to accept it: I just did my duty. "Don't you ever think that. You're not…"

_His gaze locked with mine, and I was _sure_ he was absolutely clear and knew perfectly well who was holding his hand and pretending to be his mum. Unpleasant shivers ran down my spine. "Yes, I am. And you can be proud of me, mum. I'll die for something other people call a noble cause. Just don't lie to me again." _

And suddenly his eyes break and his hand slips from mine, and the man that was Joric Tarkker – pain in the ass, bastard, human being – is only a dead shell. It takes nearly all of my remaining force of will not to throw up here and now. Instead I take a deep breath, get up and go in search of the next medic to finally get some order in my non-existent files.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

And now I'm sitting here, crying as hard as I can and wondering again and again why the hell I signed up and how I'm gonna survive all of this.

I mean… It's over. It's finally and really over. The toughest battle I had yet to fight. The battle that made me 1st Lieutenant and Captain in one. Everyone's cheering. Even those who lost friends. And that's basically everyone of us. But my friends are all alive, as I found out now. Danna. Magic. Xanas. Every-frigging-one of them.

And what am I doing? Sitting here, hiding behind some rock, _crying_? I know it's ridiculous. I was just made K-Company's CO – more than I ever thought I'd make in this war – and survived something no one ever thought I'd survive. And instead of cheering like anyone else, I'm sitting here crying so hard I'm shaking.

I don't even get it myself. Yes, I'm wounded – burns all over my body, probably busted a knee, stuff like that – but at the moment there's still the adrenaline and endorphins running high in my veins, so I'm not feeling a lot of pain. Why am I crying then, godsdammit?

It's not even that I saw combat for the first time. I did before – not like that, granted, but I'm still no rookie anymore. Blood, people screaming, people dying… been there, done that, bought the t-shirt. But not people I was responsible for. People I was supposed to lead in and mostly _through_ combat. I did everything I thought I could. I kept as calm as possible. I didn't go all girly. I didn't freak out. I held a bastard's hand and pretended to be his mother. And yet he and all the others died.

The crying gets even harder. People under my command. Died. And I didn't even know all their names. How am I supposed to write the letters to all their families. _Am_ I supposed to write those letters?

Pictures come back to me with a vengeance now. Tarkker getting hit by a plasma grenade, screaming in pain. Stormies appearing out of a tunnel, shooting 2nd platoon's First Sergeant and a number of other troopers right in the face. Grenades going off all around me, instantly killing my medic and my RO, but leaving me relatively unscathed. People dying. People I was responsible for… I draw my knees to my chest, hugging them tight with my eyes closed. Around the corner I can still hear people cheering. Breaking out in relief at a friend's return from the battle field, soldiers boasting with their exploits. All the stuff people do when high on adrenaline.

All _I_ can think about are all those things I will maybe never shake off again. I'll never ever be able to think of Tarkker without remembering the feeling of his hand going limp in mine, and the shame of having the fleeting feeling of relief that it hadn't been Xanas' hand I had held. Plus my mind already starts getting into the "What the hell did I do wrong?"-wheel, turning over every scene and every fragment again and again to see whom I could have saved, who died…

I just want to find a hole, dig myself in and never come out again. I don't even want anyone else in there – not even Xanas. No, scratch that. Most of all not Xanas.

Something makes a beeping sound. Realizing only after a few seconds that it's my comm, I answer only with a weary "Yeah?", not trusting my voice to say anything more.

"Captain Melara?" News travel fast here, obviously, because that sounds like someone up in Command. Really didn't think they'd register the field promotion so fast.

"Yeah, that's me. What is it?" I just hope the static made it impossible for them to hear the choked note in my voice.

"We have deployed transport for your men. Get them to the coordinates we just sent to your pad. You are expected to be at the camp for a debriefing in one hour." Get them to the coordinates? I don't even know who's still alive and who isn't. And debriefing in one hour? How the hell am I supposed to get there?

I consider arguing for a short moment, but then my inner Private wins over and I only agree with: "Copy that. Melara out.", finally getting into business mode again.

But in the back of my mind I just can't shake off the feeling that today I finally lost a part of myself for good. A very important and irreplaceable part of myself. Just haven't figured it out what exactly it is yet.

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**A/N: **Yes, I know. Probably a bit (eh... who am I trying to kid? _Lots of_ more likely.) of wangst in this one, but... I'd like you to tell me if it's justified. Please? 


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

It's in the middle of the night now, and those of the company who haven't already been shipped out are sleeping in the tent I'm sitting in, one of the last ones to be removed. I was offered a cabin on one of the ships in orbit already, but I declined and opted to stay behind on the planet for one more night. After so many days out in the open of nearly endless seeming wasteland, I find it hard to even think about sleeping in the very close and very confining quarters of a space ship. It feels as if I need at least one more night to prepare myself for having to stay there for as long as we need to get to Hoth.

Trying to continue writing my report for the maybe tenth time this night, I finally decide to give up and put the datapad away. Sighing without a sound, I stand up and walk towards the tent's entrance. The tent watch is asleep, and I know that theoretically it's my duty as the ranking officer to wake up the Sullustan, but right now I can afford the luxury of pretending to be again Private Jenna Melara, sneaking out of the tent because she can't sleep and just wants to see the stars. And not Captain Jenna Melara, officially leaving the tent to see that everything is alright.

Out in the night, it's cold, and I shiver involuntarily. But it still feels better than being inside and listening to the others sleeping when you know you definitely can't. Walking around a little, I manage to find a pile of crates to sit down and lean back to gaze at the sky. I take a deep breath. Some of those moving bright dots up there in the sky are the ships that will bring us to Hoth, but I want to shut them out for now. I readjust my position. Still moving dots. On one of them, Xanas is sitting and doing… whatever. Angry at myself I move my hand over my face as if to shoo away a fly. I don't care about what he's doing or isn't doing. Honestly.

_But it's too late. Already my thoughts have drifted back to the moment I set foot on Tatooine again and the first thing I was told was that I had an orientation briefing with my new Company CO as soon as possible and that one of the people in my platoon was sitting in the brig. Again. When I was told it was Xanas sitting there I almost instantly opted for the orientation briefing. Which I regretted only shortly after reporting to Captain Apatim, a Quarren male. Not because he was such an asshole or something. Apatim, in fact, was a decent officer in the short time I got to know him. No, it was the fact that the first thing I got told was that I obviously now had more than one trouble maker in my platoon. And one of them being Xanas._

_Apatim only told me he trusted me to know how to handle that and then handed me the datapad with the recent platoon statistics on it. My expected evening reading. With that I was dismissed and my legs seemed to carry me straight to the brig, even if my mind didn't want to go. Before entering, I took another deep breath, then stepped through the flap. I remembered the first time I'd seen Xanas in the brig, and this was nothing like it. He'd been in there with Korwin and his gang, thoroughly beaten up, but obviously somehow still in a tremendously good mood. _

_Then, though… he was sitting on one of the crates inside the makeshift cell, his forearms on his thighs, staring at the entrance. At _me_. In a split-second decision I told the guard to leave the tent – the first time ever I actually pulled rank on someone – and stepped nearer to the cell. I took a closer look at Xanas. A nice shiner was starting to show around his left eye, which only added to the overall grim expression. I forced myself not to take a deep breath and said: "Been annoying people again, Private?" _

_In the same moment I'd said that I wished I hadn't. I even wished I'd never actually entered the brig at all. On his face there was something I'd never seen before, not even directed to anyone else than me: A sneer. "Disappointed I'm not your little goody-two-shoes toss-around anymore… Lieutenant?" I couldn't help the sharp intake of breath at that sentence. When I'd been in OCS, I'd imagined a lot of reunion scenes. I'd even imagined one where the only reunion that would take place was that I had a last look at his body bag. But I actually never dared to imagine that kind of cold sneering. _

_For a few seconds I had nothing to return. Then I said: "I'm only disappointed at the loss of your professional attitude. I hear you've been making trouble for over four weeks now. Do you have any sensible explanation for that?" Of course he had. He'd just never admit it. _

_Without changing the cold expression on his face, he suddenly stood up and came forward toward the barrier. I willed myself to stay rooted to the spot without even flinching when he came to stop right before me, but inside I was shuddering. I'd felt a wide range of things for Xanas before. But never – _never_ – before I'd actually been afraid. In that moment I was._

_"You know perfectly well what my reasons are. But you'd never admit it, and you'd never care about them, either. You are so wrapped up in your little new world of commanding that you don't give a damn about me anymore." I was surprised. I knew he was still hurting from what had happened on Chandrila, but I honestly hadn't thought he'd actually admit that. Turned out I should have first heard him out before making assumptions, though. "And of course there are other boys now to play with. Rumor has it…"_

_That was the moment I snapped. He of all people should have known never do to something like that. In reflex, my hand shot out and grabbed him by his collar through the bars. Maybe it was the surprise, maybe his subconscious told him not to fight me… Anyway, I had him pinned with his face against the bars, with my face directly before him. "I don't know what your mother told you about jealousy and hurt pride, but I'm telling you now what _I_ think about it: Spare me the rumors. And keep all your negative sentiments to yourself if you don't know how to express them properly. That was the last time_ever_ you implied anything like that. Got it, Private?" _

_By then I'd let go of his collar again, too agitated to be able to hold him any longer, but he'd still remained close to the bars. For some seconds, we were staring at each other, then he said: "Every word of it, Lieutenant. Doesn't mean I'll keep to anyone of them, though." And that was it. I'd not been an officer for a very long time but I certainly knew I couldn't let that kind of insolence get unpunished._

_I stepped away from the cell again, and called for the guard. Then I told the Zabrak that Private Farrayn was to be kept at the brig for another three days, and then turned around, not wanting to pass any more time there. Just when I was about to leave through the flap, I heard him tentatively say behind my back: "Jenna, I…" _

_For a moment, I was so moved at the pleading undertone in his voice, that I was tempted to turn around, tell the guard to leave again and walk over to Xanas, put a comforting hand on his cheek and tell him that everything eventually would be okay again, but then I remembered the way he'd been behaving and just said without turning around: "You will either address me with Lieutenant Melara or Ma'am, Private. Start learning that." And with that I finally went away._

Groaning I move my hand over my face again. I'd gone over that whole conversation for about a dozen times now, every time wondering if there was anything I could have done for it to take a different turn, but I never dare to find a way. Because that would mean I'd done the wrong thing there in the brig. And I can't do the wrong things anymore. Doing wrong things now is very likely to result not only in my death but in that of others as well. I…

"Still being a night person, Mel?" I jump up, my blaster out in a second, aimed at the one who dared to talk to me. Who in turn only holds up her hands and says: "Whoa, Jenna, whatever they did with you in OCS, they certainly boosted your reflexes."

I blink. Shake my head. Put away the blaster. Holy… I almost shot Danna Kreth, my best friend. Trying to look at least marginally dignified, I straighten up again.

"Yeah, well, can't say now that they aren't worth at least a little of their pay." I can see the grin on her slightly illuminated features.

"They actually get paid there? Where can I sign up?" With that the tension in my body has finally eased, and I manage a smile.

"Never actually asked them if they _really_ got paid. They gave us a good run for _our_ money, though." I sit down again, and she decides to sit down beside me. "So," I say, eager to change the topic, "what are you doing still up? Can't sleep? Magic let you out of the tent on your own?"

She grins, then shrugs. "Just wanted another look at the stars before departing." Another smile crosses my face. Again and again I still catch myself at being surprised how alike we are sometimes. Who would have thought that the farm girl from Dantooine turned recon and the rich girl from Chandrila turned screw-up soldier turned officer could ever become friends? After moments of companionable silence, Danna nudges me and says: "So… A Captain, huh?"

A little embarrassed, I rub my neck. "Yeah, who would have thought Private Queeny to make it to Captain in less then two weeks after getting promoted to 2nd Lieutenant, huh?"

She gives me a little shove. "Stop selling yourself short and fishing for compliments. If anyone ever had any doubts that you deserve that promotion, then they should be gone completely by now. You did good out in the Xelric Draw." For some strange reason, hearing that from Danna makes it a lot more important to me than hearing it from Borlin or Oreth might have made it.

I'm still relieved that the dark hides the heavy blushing. To shake off the last embarrassment, I look up at the stars again, and see the moving dots. And of course the first thought crossing my mind is if Xanas is already asleep… Dammit. "Everything okay between the two of you?" A little startled I turn to Danna. We both know exactly who she means, and I can barely suppress a shudder. She's done it before – obviously sensing that something's wrong – but she was never that accurate in determining what my discomfort was about. Or maybe she just felt my discomfort and made a wild guess. Yeah, best keep thinking that. Everything else will raise strange questions.

"We… yeah, of course. Everything is okay." All of a sudden I wish she wouldn't have this knack for being able to get out more of me than I actually want to give away. Because up to now I absolutely didn't want to talk about Xanas to _anyone_, but already I feel like I need someone to rant about him and all the stuff that's been happening between us and…

"You sure? Because… it certainly didn't look like it." And that's all she needs to say to make me talk.

"Danna, I… we… something happened on Chandrila." She cocks an eyebrow and opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her short. "_Not_ like that. Just… a change. I... We got to know each other better, and I… okay, there _was_ kissing." She grins. Old gossip-queen. "But nothing more. And it was… accidentally. Well, most of it." The grin grows wider. "_All_ of it. But that's not even the point. The point is… we… we were close to… I mean,_I_ was close to…"

She puts a hand on my shoulder, and the grin has vanished again. Ever since that thing in the hospital tent where she managed to tantalize me enough to make me shout at her, she's been behaving a little more cautiously when realizing something is upsetting me. "What happened?"

Over the last few weeks I could shove away all of the sentiments I had about the way Xanas and I parted after the two weeks on Chandrila. There was always someone to yell at me, or some class to attend to or some battle to charge into – always an opportunity to put all that happened behind a wall of duracrete. Now though… there's no one to yell, no class to attend to, no battle to charge into… just a friend who's simply concerned about me. I sigh.

"He… did something stupid. Defended my honor, so to speak. And I… I took that as the point to finally step on the breaks. We'd been bordering on fraternizing all the time, and I just _knew_ we couldn't go on like that. I mean… this is a godsdammed war, and I've got a responsibility to _all_ my people… and I just… I did something really stupid, didn't I?" I'm suddenly annoyed with myself, because the tears start to well up again. So much for "You're an officer, keep yourself in check." Angrily, I wipe my hand over my face.

I feel Danna draping an arm over my shoulders and hug me towards her. "Girl… whatever you did, I'm sure it wasn't the end of the world." In my head I know she only means well and force myself to just let it happen rather than shrugging her arm off. I _am_ able to learn, you know. As well as her, obviously, because she takes it away. Then she says: "What's he saying to all of that?"

I wish she wouldn't have asked, because then I wouldn't have to answer. "Actually… I don't know. Not been talking to him for a while now.", I say, trying to sound casual. But the truth is: I miss him. Terribly. Even more than I missed him in OCS.

And suddenly the whole insanity of this strikes me, and hard. If there hadn't been a war, if we had maybe met on Coruscant in some fancy restaurant or a museum… if he had been a young aspiring doctor and I had been a journalist taking her first steps in the world of publishing… would we have behaved differently? Would I have tried to fend off my own growing feelings for him as ferociously as I am now? Would he have decked my brother like he'd done on Chandrila?

I squeeze my eyes shut tight, and Danna, again obviously miraculously sensing that something's giving me great distress, quietly asks: "Jenna? Are you really okay, what with not talking to Farrayn and everything?"

I can't help heaving a sigh and looking up at the stars as I say: "You know, Danna, they say war's first casualty is innocence, but I beg to differ. Because I think sanity is a hot candidate for that position as well." And it's true. For me this sums up everything that happened around the battle of the Xelric Draw. The hurtful encounter with Xanas in the brig. The sheer unfathomable madness on the battle field itself. My strange experience with dying Tarkker. It all feels like the universe itself has lost its sanity for good.

And beside me, Danna sighs as well, and then quietly says: "I think I know exactly what you're saying." I believe her every word. I really believe that in this moment we understand each other completely, without having to add only one more word. In this moment we both think the same: There are far more kinds of casualties than those which appear to the untrained eye. Our innocence, dignity and our sanity only being three more of them.

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**A/N: **Yep, that was a short one. What do you think? 


End file.
